pafp I’M A HOT AIR BALLOOM // congratulating new warrior

[FORESTSHADE]

// please wait for @SHARPSHADOW to post!

Her day has been spent wandering around camp against Starlingheart’s wishes, her cobweb-wrapped paw tucked up to her chest as she hobbles about on three legs. Boredom eats away at her, and so what does she seek to do next? Eat!

She is already making a beeline for the fresh-kill pile, nose working overtime to try and figure out what might be there before she even reaches it. A frog is plucked up immediately after her toes brush the edge of the small pile and she settles onto her pale stomach to begin munching. As she does so, she hears the approach of another, her nose telling her who it is immediately.

“Sharpshadow!” She greets jollily, in a much better mood now that she has some food in her stomach. “I never got to talk to you after your ceremony. Congrats on the new name, finally,” She tells her with a lighthearted but giant grin on her face. She means no harm by it, of course, but she has never been known to have much tact. “After that journey, I was thinking you’d better get what’s deserved. Glad to see it happened!”​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

Sharpshadow stiffens, at the call of his name. It is not often that he is wanted— and when he is, it's often to have some lesson drilled in his head, or for an otherwise insufferable task to be shoved his way. The warrior's pelt bristles on impulse, and the turn of his head is far from natural— a stiff, wretched movement on a pike that leaves him tense and clammy. She expects to be scolded— but it is Forestshade calling out to her, and she did not know Forestshade for scolding, really. She feels a deep - seeded anger when she sees her, though. Something that makes her lip want to curl and has bile twisting deep in her gut. At the moment, though, he can't recall why, so he makes some effort to hide his feelings... Uh, as if she could see his face. " Wha? " she replies smartly, startled noise completely at odds with Forestshade's otherwise casual tone. Sharpshadow feels as if this is a trap, somehow.

I never got to talk to you after your ceremony. Sharpshadow blinks, trying to figure out why she would want to do that. Congrats on the new name, finally. Bemusement flits into surprise, and then immediately melts into irritation. Finally, Finally! Because the great Forestshade knew nothing of having to wait for what she wanted. It comes back to her then, that fat rabbit. A punishment that she had avoided, because she was such an amazing hunter. She is lucky she cannot see the way Sharpshadow's face sours almost at once, some semblance of a filter translating a look of anger into an accidentally-ate-a-bug look. And Forestshade has the gall to smile

Sharpshadow is very much clenching her jaw, but perhaps so much time spent amongst obtuse, stone - faced ShadowClanners has helped her press her face back into something less hostile. Lips pressed into a too - tight smile. Silver eyes still fling daggers, not at all matching the wobbling smile. " ...Hm? " He is not above starting a fight. If someone hits you, hit back, and harder.

But all she is is confused, when Forestshade tacks on something about him deserving. An awkward expression melts into neutrality so neutral that it is almost certainly not real. Wearily, " Yeah? " He doesn't have to hide the way he looks at anything else, around her, like she would find the mysterious reason that Forestshade was glad physically sitting within camp. He should probably say thank you. He looks for something else to say, instead. " We're not, uh, dissimilar... " Shade. Shadow. (Which was better than the other?)

Poetic, isn't it? Didn't Chilledstar think themselves so very poetic? Sharpshadow, and to think, she had almost left with Honeyjaw (An utter lie). " What kind of image does it conjure up for you? Sharpshadow. " Poetic... and, irritatingly simple, so far as appearances go. Sharpshadow could not use her tail to hide herself if she so wanted. At least Forestshade wouldn't care. So long as she doesn't say, oh, I picture you mangled like a bit of carrion.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

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• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 17 moons old as of 11.12.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

"it has been a long time coming. you truly deserve the position of a warrior and I'm glad you've gotten it."

ultimately, it truly wad their choice but they had to respect a mentor when they say their apprentice is not ready. that was what smogmaw said, wasn't it? in a lot more drawn out and annoying set of words, he had said that sharpshadow simply hadn't been ready. they wondered, partially, what changed that? was it the fact that sharp went on the journey? was it the journey itself? had they both found change within them, on such a trip? or perhaps, smogmaw simply opened his eyes, finally. she deserved to be a warrior. he had been a bit of an odd apprentice, but sharpshadow worked hard. it was high time for something like that to be recognized.
​

 

[smogstar]

In defiance to the notion held among his clanmates, Smogmaw had not wanted to hold Sharpshadow back. Suggesting otherwise is folly in its rawest form. Over the lion's part of the wiry-furred feline's tutelage, training sessions amounted to little more than anxiety-ridden episodes for both parties involved.

Couple an adamant resistance to straightforward instructions, and a passion for overanalysing every minute detail, and you had an apprentice incapable of completing any given task without losing focus. One would suppose Sharpshadow was the perfect match for Smogmaw on this premise; but were he given a vole for each time he considered tearing out his whiskers, he'd have fattened himself up enough to hibernate through Leaf-bare.

Naturally, he'd entertained telling Chilledstar to slap a full name on her before the journey came around, so that he may be reassigned to a better-equipped pupil—however, he was firm in preventing a perturbed novice from joining the warrior ranks. Holding off on doing so proved invaluable in the end, for the journey moulded him into a warrior surpassing all expectations.

Dark-smirched limbs rove across the camp's breadth. He gives a wide berth to other unfolding interactions, favouring the congregation wherein his leader, his former apprentice, and Forestshade reside. The tail-end of the gifted hunter's high praises waft into his periphery, earning an agreeing nod as the tom moves to sit by his leader. "I'm of the mind that 'shadow' is an accomplished name," he meows, then giving a cursory glance to the blind molly. "Kind of like 'shade'. Speaks volumes of your skill in what this clan prizes most. And it fits you, Sharpshadow."

Meanwhile, Briarstar had chosen his name in correlation with his mouth. Damn shame he'd never been afforded a chance to inquire why. Should've done so before she painted the thunderpath with her livelihood. ​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

“Yeah,” She trills back, casual as if it’s no big deal, but she can hear it in his voice that he’s intrigued, interest piqued by her praise. She can’t blame her. She has waited a long time for this. His question makes her tilt her head in thought before a big grin spreads across her face. “It’s mysterious,” Is her smooth answer, and her hackles bob up and down one after the other as if to add to the effect.

Her ears flick as Chilledstar and Smogmaw approach, the former singing their praises, and the deputy compares Sharpshadow’s name to Forestshade’s own. She draws her chest up in pride, unable to hide the smug smile that sits on her maw. She bears a ShadowClan name, it’s official - deputy says so. “Why? There another name you were hoping for?” She jokes back to the new warrior, one corner up of her mouth quirking up to reveal a few teeth.​